


it's my party! (i'll cry if i want to)

by cool lesbian (falloutblink182)



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, also pushing my 'zuko is a mess' agenda, azula and iroh are mentioned but alas not present, he is not a fashionista he wears minecraft pjs in public and i am willing to die on this hill, ive been working on this forever im so glad its finally done, mild angst bc ozai is mentioned but then it goes back to funny again, surprise appearance by homosexual swans, this is mostly an excuse to push my vegan zuko agenda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:35:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27962390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falloutblink182/pseuds/cool%20lesbian
Summary: "Since he and Zuko have started dating, Sokka has realised that Zuko will cry about anything. And, like, he obviously doesn’t enjoy seeing Zuko being upset, and he doesn’t want Zuko to feel ashamed for feeling his feelings and whatnot, but sometimes the things he’s crying about are so bizarre that Sokka can’t help but find it endearing."(Or: Have you seen that reddit post about the guy who made a list of all the reasons why his wife cried? Yeah, this is that, but with Zuko and Sokka.)
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 45
Kudos: 349





	it's my party! (i'll cry if i want to)

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this: https://imgur.com/NuhsgPV 
> 
> Apologies if the tenses are all over the place. I would go and fix it all but my excuse is that I cannot be arsed in the slightest.

Ever since Sokka made the transition from ‘Zuko’s best friend and flatmate’ to ‘Zuko’s _boyfriend’,_ his life has been pretty great. Nothing has really changed drastically – his engineering course is still kicking his ass, his shitty minimum-wage bartending job is still full of terrible customers, and the stray cat who Zuko keeps feeding still hates Sokka’s guts. What _has_ changed is the fact that when one of Sokka’s professors is refusing to make accommodations for his dyslexia, or when he gets back to the apartment at 1am exhausted after a long shift, or when that horrible feline scratches him and probably gives him all sorts of diseases, Zuko is always there now to wrap his arms around Sokka’s waist and to leave gentle kisses along his jawline. What’s changed is that when he tiredly collapses into bed, Zuko is there too, ready to instinctively curl up closer towards Sokka’s body heat. 

So, yeah. Nothing has really changed, but everything does seem to be better. He and Zuko have been living together for a while, and have been friends for years, so already knew each other pretty well before they started dating – Sokka has been absolutely _delighted_ to find out, however, that there are still things that he doesn’t know about Zuko. There are still things that he’s learning about this guy, still things that are being revealed. 

Like, for instance, the fact that Zuko is a bit of a crybaby. 

Now, don’t get him wrong – Sokka knows that there is absolutely nothing wrong with being sensitive and crying, and God knows that if anyone deserves to have a little cry now and then it’s Zuko. Fuck, his tragic backstory is enough to make Sokka want to cry a lot of the time, and he’s not even the one who had to live it. 

To clarify – there is nothing wrong with sensitivity, or crying, and it doesn’t make you less of a man, blahblahblah. Despite popular belief, Sokka does actually listen to Katara (occasionally). It’s just – since he and Zuko have started dating, Sokka has realised that Zuko will cry about _anything._ And, like, he obviously doesn’t enjoy seeing Zuko being upset, and he doesn’t want Zuko to feel ashamed for _feeling his feelings,_ but sometimes the things he’s crying about are so bizarre that Sokka can’t help but find it endearing. 

Hence: The List™. 

The List™ was actually Suki’s idea. The List™ is simply titled _Reasons Why My Boyfriend is Crying,_ and it’s pretty self-explanatory. It’s scribbled at the back of one of Sokka’s old college notepads, hidden under the pages full of equations and shitty doodles, and it’s something that he and Suki have decided that Zuko can never, _ever,_ find. 

_Reasons Why My Boyfriend is_ _Crying:_

  1. _Found out swans could be gay_ _._



Sokka was exhausted. He had just spent the last six hours on his feet, making cocktail after cocktail for the hordes of drunken 20-somethings, and usually he doesn’t mind his job – yeah, the pay is terrible, and the hours leave him with little time to do essential things like ‘sleep’, but Ty Lee works at the same bar and she’s always fun to be around – but tonight was just tiring. The doorman had to stop several fights from breaking out between customers, and then Ty Lee had to stop _Sokka_ from leaping over the bar and smashing a Collins glass into the face of some pervert who he saw grab some girl’s arse. 

(She could more than handle herself – Sokka is pretty sure that she broke a few of that guy’s fingers – but it put him in a foul mood for the rest of the night). 

On the bus home he took a seat towards the back and shoved his headphones over his ears, only to let out a string of profanity and shove them back in his frayed backpack when he realised that his phone was dead. By the time he got back to the apartment he was more than ready to just fall into bed and sleep for a week. He opens and closes the front door gently – there’s always a high possibility that Zuko is still awake at the ungodly hours that Sokka gets home, but he’d rather not risk waking him up – and toes off his chucks, kicking them into the haphazard pile of shoes by the door that Katara is always labelling a trip-hazard yet Toph always manages to avoid. All the lights are off, so Sokka assumes Zuko is asleep and makes his way towards the bedroom silently. When he pushes open the door, however, Zuko is quite clearly _not_ asleep – instead, he’s sat up against the headboard, with his knees bent and the duvet pulled over them, and his face is illuminated only by the soft glow of his phone. 

“Why are you still up?” Sokka asks, collapsing onto the mattress next to Zuko and rubbing at his face tiredly. Zuko looks up, and Sokka is instantly more alert when he sees that Zuko has clearly been crying. “Babe? What’s wrong?” 

Zuko doesn’t say anything – instead he shoves his phone into Sokka’s hands. Sokka fumbles for a moment, tiredly trying to figure out just what the fuck is going on, before reading what Zuko was looking at before he came in. There’s a NY Post article open on the phone, and Sokka reads the headline. 

_Gay swans are super protective of their plastic cup!_

“Zuko…” he begins, despite not being quite sure of where to go after that. Luckily, Zuko seems to be very aware that this situation is ridiculous, so he responds by making a frustrated noise and burying his face into Sokka’s shoulder. “Zuko, why are you crying about these angry gay swans?” 

Zuko muffles something unintelligible into Sokka’s shoulder. 

“You’re gonna have to speak up, baby.” 

Zuko removes his face from Sokka’s shoulder with a pout. 

“I didn’t know swans could be gay,” he mutters, and Sokka can’t help but smile. “They can be _gay,_ Sokka.” 

“I know,” Sokka says. “I’m reading the same article you read.” 

Sokka leans over to put Zuko’s phone on the bedside table and Zuko takes the opportunity to pull Sokka’s arms around him. Now that he knows Zuko isn’t having a breakdown over something terrible, Sokka can feel the tiredness seeping back into his bones and sleepily curls up tighter around Zuko. 

“Didja know swans mate for life?” Zuko mumbles into Sokka’s chest, and Sokka fights valiantly against the heaviness of his eyelids. 

“I do now,” he says, and Zuko makes a happy little noise in response. 

“If we were gay swans,” Zuko says, “I would want to aggressively protect a plastic cup with you.” 

Sokka is already about 96% asleep, but he’s still awake enough to know that he’s far, far gone on this boy. 

“I think that’s the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me,” he says, before promptly falling asleep. 

_2\. He was hungover and saw a picture of a piglet_ _._

“Not to be dramatic, but I think this hash brown might be the love of my life,” Suki has a hash-brown on a fork and is staring at it dreamily. Sokka, who has already eaten his own hash-browns, looks at Suki’s breakfast with poorly disguised envy. 

“If you get married to it, can I be the best man?” Aang asks around a mouthful of his weirdo healthy granola. He’s as chipper as ever, being one of those assholes who never gets hangovers. Sokka hates his guts. 

Sokka tunes out their conversation about Suki’s carb-marriage as Toph and Katara get involved. He loves them all to bits, but when they’re all together they get _loud,_ even when most of them are feeling like death personified after last night. There’s still a pounding in his head, even after the unholy amounts of cheap fried breakfast food he’s consumed, so he reaches across to steal Zuko’s orange juice and waits for the ibuprofen he took earlier to kick in. 

Zuko, meanwhile, abandoned the ‘socialisation’ element of their breakfast outing almost immediately after entering the diner and has been alternating between picking at his veggie fry-up, scrolling through his phone, and squeezing Sokka’s hand under the table. He doesn’t say anything about Sokka stealing his juice, but he does narrow his eyes in a way that Sokka is sure would be very intimidating if the bloke wasn’t wearing Minecraft pyjama pants, and if he hadn’t seen the guy perform an unbelievable karaoke version of ‘Before He Cheats’ with Katara last night. 

Sokka responds to Zuko’s very intimidating glare by shuffling closer to Zuko, snaking an arm around his waist, and planting a kiss on the top of his head. This is met with cries of disgust from the rest of the table, especially from Katara (who is the world’s biggest hypocrite considering that she and Aang have been acting lovey-dovey all morning), so Zuko quickly redirects his glare from Sokka to everyone else. 

“I’m gonna go get another coffee,” Sokka picks out his empty mug from the collection that has amassed on the table. “Anyone else want a refill?” 

He was expecting someone to get up with him, but instead suddenly finds himself with an armful of mugs and cups before being pushed towards the bar. He groans with all the long-suffering anguish that only oldest siblings have ever felt but accepts his fate regardless and goes to figure out how he’s going to carry six cups of coffee back to the table with only two hands. 

He gets the refills, charms a passing waitress into lending him a tray, and makes his way back to the table to find Zuko with his head on the table whilst the rest of the troop seem to be pissing themselves laughing. 

“I was gone for five minutes and you’ve killed Zuko, what the hell guys?” He puts the tray down and grabs his own coffee, quirking an eyebrow as Zuko sits up to look tiredly at Sokka. His eyes are slightly glassy, tears threatening to brim from the corners, but everyone else is still laughing (and Zuko’s mouth is twitching, as if it wants to smile), so Sokka isn’t too concerned. 

“Sokka,” Zuko whispers, grabbing onto Sokka’s wrist. “Sokka, it’s so _tiny._ ” Before Sokka can ask for just a _little_ bit of clarification, Suki is shoving her phone towards him and Zuko gestures at it desperately. On the phone is a picture of an impossibly small piglet. Sokka feels a pang in his chest. 

It’s so _small._

Katara is giggling into her hands whilst Toph cackles from Zuko’s side, and even Aang looks like he’s struggling to keep a straight face. 

“It is rather tiny,” Suki agrees, and Zuko gives her his leftover vegan sausage from his plate to show her his gratitude. She accepts the gift with dignity and swipes it in her baked beans. “ _Too_ tiny. I feel like I’m too hungover to protect it.” She pouts, and Zuko nods in agreement. 

Sokka is glad to note that Zuko is looking significantly less teary-eyed, and is more than a little relieved (and somewhat amused) now that he knows that Zuko isn’t actually upset. 

“But I _am_ upset, Sokka!” Zuko pouts, snatching the phone and staring at the picture of the piglet as if it holds all the secrets of the universe. “How can something this small exist in this world?” 

Toph goes to pat Zuko’s head in mock-sympathy, but her aim is slightly off (whether that’s an accident or on purpose, Sokka doesn’t know) and she just sort of lightly hits Zuko in the face. Zuko seems to appreciate it regardless. 

“I dunno, man, you’re pretty small and you seem to exist just fine,” Sokka says, and it’s definitely worth the dead arm Zuko gives him in retaliation. 

Probably. 

_3\. I waited until it was dark and pretended to be the Babadook._

Zuko is going to be home any minute now, and Sokka is _ready._

It’s late, and all the lights are out, and Zuko is going to arrive home from having ‘just a drink or two with his sister’ (Sokka is 100% sure that they had more than two, judging by the texts Zuko has been sending him all night) with the assumption that Sokka will be fast asleep. 

Sokka is not asleep, however. Sokka is wide awake. 

The sound of a key turning in the door echoes through the silent apartment, followed by the soft noises of Zuko fumbling over the pile of shoes in the hallway and humming to himself. 

Something glows in Sokka’s chest, warm and comforting, at the thought of Zuko pottering away in the other room. Sometimes it hits him like a truck; the fact that he loves Zuko, Zuko loves him back, and they get to live together and love each other and be all gross and domestic together. Part of him wants to abandon the stupid prank he has planned and just run into the other room to hold onto Zuko and never let go instead. 

But no. The plan-guy has a plan, and he’s going to stick to it. 

“… _Bucket and_ _a mop_ _for this wet-ass pussy, I’m talking_ _wap_ _,_ _wap_ _,_ _wap_ _…_ ” Zuko’s voice is quiet as he sings to himself, obviously drunk but still trying to be quiet as to not to disturb Sokka. Sokka holds his breath and stands with his back against the wall, waiting for Zuko to turn the corner. 

From Zuko’s clumsy rummaging, Sokka guesses that he’s now in the right position, so he strikes. He tiptoes carefully behind Zuko, and then places a clawed hand (i.e. his hand with Bugles on each of the fingers) on Zuko’s shoulder. 

In the creepiest voice he can muster, Sokka wails “ _Babadoooooook_ _,”_ and Zuko lets out a _very_ macho squeal and jumps about fifty feet in the air. Sokka stumbles backwards, trying to catch his breath as he laughs in that way where no sound gets out – he wheezes and struggles to find air as Zuko attacks him with a couch cushion. 

“I can’t believe I’m in love with you, you’re such an _asshole,_ ” Zuko says, but there’s laughter in his voice so Sokka figures that he isn’t in too much trouble. Eventually Sokka recovers enough to snatch the cushion away from Zuko and he goes to turn the light on. 

“I’m sorry,” Sokka lies, like a liar. “I couldn’t resist, I just – _are you okay?”_ Zuko is stood with his back towards Sokka, and his shoulders are shaking as if he’s crying. 

Sokka rushes over, pulling Zuko into his arms before realising that Zuko’s shaking shoulders are a result of him _laughing._ The asshole. 

“Damn, am I really _that_ funny?” Sokka wonders aloud, and Zuko pulls back to shake his head and scrub the tears of laughter from his face. 

“No,” Zuko says. “I’m just really drunk.” 

(Sokka counts that as a win regardless.) 

_4\. The fluffy bunny escaped from an arctic fox in the documentary we were watching._

“ _…when lifting his head to check for_ _preadators_ _, the rabbit does not need to move his head at all, as his eyes can see 360 degrees in all directions…”_ the narrators voice breaks through the quiet of the living room. The closed captions flash at the bottom of the screen and both Sokka and Zuko are enthralled by the show – Sokka is sat leaning forward, eyes wide as a fox appears on screen. Zuko’s feet are wedged firmly on Sokka’s lap, the book he was reading forgotten as his eyes are fixed to the screen. Rain hammers at the window but goes mostly ignored, bar from Zuko curling his oversized sweater (stolen from Sokka) tighter around his body as he imagines the cold outside of their cosy flat. 

“Oh shit,” Sokka’s voice breaks through the silence as a fox appears on screen. “I don’t think our guy is gonna make it.” Zuko tears his gaze away from the screen to look at Sokka with a look of betrayal. 

“Why would you say that?” He whispers before turning back to face the TV with a huff as Sokka attempts to apologise through his laughter. 

Sokka’s laughter quickly dies out, however, as the fox on screen sets sight on the bunny and creeps forward, belly low to the ground, its thick white fur blending perfectly into the snowy landscape. Both boys on the couch hold their breath and tense up. 

“Oh _shit,”_ Zuko hisses, and Sokka silently agrees. 

The rabbit’s nose twitches. 

The fox stills. 

The rabbit’s nose twitches again. 

The TV screen is still and peaceful for a moment, until suddenly the rabbit _legs it,_ the white fox following close behind. 

“ _...although the fox may have an obvious advantage over its prey, the rabbit is cunning and nimble as it zig-zags through the snow mounds.”_ Zuko’s eyes scan the closed-captions with a mad sort of desperation, and Sokka’s leg bounces rapidly as he quietly murmurs his support for the rabbit. 

Despite the rabbit’s desperate zig-zagging, the fox quickly closes the distance between predator and prey. 

(If Sokka grips Zuko’s hand a little too tight, well, nobody has to know). 

The fox leaps, and Sokka feels his heart sink. The poor rabbit is surely a goner. Pointy teeth gleam in the arctic-sunlight as the fox opens its mouth and snaps at the rabbit, and Sokka flinches and involuntarily turns his gaze from the screen. 

“ _...against all odds, the rabbit escapes from the fox, surviving another day in this arctic wonderland.”_ The narrators deep voice catches Sokka’s attention, and he turns back to the screen in confusion. Luckily a slow-motion replay is shown, and he watches in amazement as the fox slips on the ice and misses its prey completely, allowing the rabbit to burrow into the ground and disappear safely into the wintry abyss. The fox is left looking somewhat dejected as it walks away. 

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Sokka whistles, impressed. “Our guy made it.” He grins, squeezing Zuko’s hand but still not looking away from the TV as the camera follows the bewildered-looking fox pacing around the snowscape. It’s not until he hears a sniffle from his side that he looks away. 

“Zuko? Baby? Are you okay?” Zuko is burying his face in the crook of his arm, trying to discretely wipe his eyes before looking up and giving Sokka a small watery smile. 

“I’m fine!” Zuko says, but Sokka finds that difficult to believe considering the fact that Zuko bursts into tears half-way through the word ‘fine’. He gives Zuko a moment to scrub at his face with his sweater sleeves, before pulling him in close and resting his chin on top of Zuko’s head. 

Sokka makes soft hushing noises as Zuko buries his snotty face into Sokka’s chest. 

“It’s okay – the rabbit got away! He’s fine!” Sokka is more than a bit lost, and it doesn’t help him at all when Zuko pulls away and shakes his head. 

“That - that’s not it,” Zuko stammers, and Sokka frowns. 

“Then what is it?” 

Zuko pouts. Sokka boops his nose. 

“You’ll think it’s stupid,” Zuko says, batting away Sokka’s hand, and Sokka just rolls his eyes. Zuko sighs. 

“I just – the fox is gonna go hungry now,” It’s a verbal conversation, but Sokka swears he can hear a :( at the end of Zuko’s sentence. “That rabbit was s’posed to be his dinner.” 

Sokka blinks. 

“I thought – Zuko, we were rooting for the cute bunny. I thought we were on the rabbit’s side?” Sokka is trying to be understanding, but he’s mostly just confused. 

“I know, it’s just – I'm being stupid. It’s stupid.” Zuko pulls his knees up to his chest and looks away, and Sokka feels a pang in his chest. He shuffles closer to Zuko, wrapping an arm around Zuko’s shoulders and squeezing gently. 

“It’s not stupid if it’s making you upset,” Sokka says plainly. “We’ve talked about this, dude.” 

Zuko sniffles. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” 

Zuko seems to think about it for a moment. 

“Okay,” He says eventually. “Okay. I just – the fox needs to eat to survive. It’s not his fault that he has to eat cute fluffy things to survive. It’s not – it's not _evil,_ just because it wants to _live.”_

Sokka has a feeling that this is getting a bit too metaphorical for him to deal with, and Zuko is quickly moving from “adorably invested in an animal program” to “genuinely upset”. It’s time for Sokka to deescalate whatever _this_ is. 

He also isn’t quite sure what to say. 

He’s pretty sure Zuko would be just as upset if the fox _did_ eat the rabbit. 

He sighs. 

“Is this really about something else?” Sokka figures a direct approach will at least mean that there will be less confusion. 

Zuko doesn’t answer, which is answer in itself. 

“Zuko...” 

“I got an email from my father.” Zuko spits out, voice full of venom. His jaw is tight. 

(His hands are trembling). 

Sokka feels a bit ill. 

“Did he have anything new to say?” He says, trying to keep his voice light. Zuko shrugs. 

“Not really,” He says, picking at a loose thread on his sweatpants. “Mostly the same-old. Bit more homophobia than usual, so my guess is he’s found out about me dating you. Somehow.” Zuko’s voice is soft, but there’s a quiet fury in his eyes, and Sokka suddenly feels a rush of affection for his part-time cry-baby, part-time rage monster boyfriend. 

“Ah. And here I was thinking that him and I would get on like a house on fire.” 

Zuko stares incredulously at Sokka. 

“What?” Sokka frowns, and Zuko raises his eyebrows. 

“Seriously? You’re gonna bring up my dad and _fire_ in the same sentence?” Zuko gestures towards the left side of his face. “Wow. Unbelievable.” 

“What - I – I didn’t mean -” Sokka splutters, trailing off when Zuko begins to laugh. “Oh, you are _such_ an asshole.” 

Zuko smirks. Sokka can’t find it within him to be particularly irritated. He reaches behind the sofa to grab his backpack, rummaging around until he finds a pack of Kleenex which he throws at Zuko’s head. 

“Wipe that snot off your face. We’re gonna watch _Cake Boss.”_ Zuko glares at Sokka in response, but blows his nose before snuggling closer as Sokka clicks through the channels. 

_5\. There were no biscuits in the house._

Forget everything nice Sokka has ever said about Zuko. Zuko, it turns out, is an absolute nutter. 

Sokka leans against the doorframe as Zuko systematically rummages through each cupboard, one by one, clearly looking for something. Now, Sokka is used to odd behaviour from Zuko. He’s an odd guy, something that Sokka thinks is very sexy of him, but Zuko’s oddness is usually consistent. He like things to be clean and orderly (they probably have the cleanest student kitchen in the entire world, which Sokka isn’t exactly complaining about), but will befriend any old manky stray animal on the street. Sokka once found him petting a _pigeon,_ for crying out loud. He makes people use coasters but will forget to take his shoes off before going to bed. He’s _odd,_ but there’s consistency in the hypocrisy of his oddness. 

So, what’s truly odd is the fact that after each cupboard he searches, he leaves the doors swinging open. 

Zuko _hates_ when cupboard doors are left open. 

Like, hates it a concerning amount. 

“You alright, Hotman?” Sokka tentatively steps forward. Zuko looks up at him with a frantic look in his eyes. “You lookin’ for something?” 

Zuko runs a hand through his hair, making it stick up at an awkward angle. He’s wearing boxers and a faded One Direction T-shirt that he’s owned for at least as long as Sokka has known him. It’s always been over-sized, and has been stretched out over the years so it hangs very loose, exposing a lot of collar-bone. There’s a hole in the armpit and there’s a stain near Niall’s head that never seems to come out fully, no matter how many times it goes through the wash. There’s a bit of toothpaste at the corner of Zuko’s mouth and he only seems to be wearing one sock. 

Sokka thinks Zuko is the most attractive person he’s ever seen. 

“Biscuits,” Zuko says, which doesn’t clarify anything whatsoever. 

“Biscuits?” Sokka says, mostly just to check that he doesn’t need to get his ears tested. 

“Biscuits.” Zuko confirms, and Sokka nods, before heading to the coffee machine. It’s early, and whatever this madness is, it can definitely wait until after he is caffeinated. 

As he busies himself with making his drink, Zuko continues to ransack the kitchen. 

“Do we even have biscuits?” Sokka wonders out-loud, mostly to himself. Zuko nods. 

“I bought some Rich Teas - I _know_ I did...” Zuko mutters to himself, and Sokka frowns as he thinks to himself. 

“Were they behind the fruit bowl?” He asks, and Zuko freezes, eyes wide. 

Oh dear. 

“Yes.” Zuko says. “They were. Do you know where they are now?” He looks a bit desperate. Sokka winces. 

“I think... I think Toph and Suki may have found them when they were over yesterday. No – wait, they definitely found them, I remember them making fun of you for your boring taste in biscuits.” They still ate them out of house and home regardless. Typical. 

“They weren’t for me,” Zuko says, blinking fast. It’s like a switch is flipped – he scoops everything back up, shoving tins and jars back into cupboards (labels facing out), shutting the doors as he goes. 

Sokka puts down his coffee leans down to help. 

“Who were they for?” 

Zuko looks like he’s debating about whether or not he should tell Sokka, but eventually just sighs and tells him. 

“They were for Sushi,” Zuko says, and Sokka frowns. 

“Sushi?” Is Sokka having a stroke? Do biscuits go in sushi? Do you dip raw fish in tea? 

“No, no,” Zuko’s at least smiling now. “Sushi is what Aang and I have named the cat.” 

Ah. 

The Cat. 

The smelly stray that keeps appearing on the fire escape stairs when Zuko’s out there having a smoke. The smelly stray that adores Zuko but scratches and hisses at Sokka whenever he even tries to get close. That cat. 

“You’ve named that thing?” Sokka asks incredulously. “You’ve named it Sushi? You’re buying it biscuits?” 

Zuko sighs, and puts down the packet of noodles he was holding. 

“I’ve not seen him in a while, and Rich Tea biscuits are his favourite. I was just – I was going to put some on the fire escape to try and get him to come back. I know he’s a stray, and cats are self-sufficient, and I shouldn’t worry, but -” Zuko starts blinking fast again, his eyes watery. “I haven’t seen him in a while.” 

Sokka hates that cat. He hates it even more now that it’s made Zuko cry. 

Still. 

The stupid cat makes Zuko happy, with its matted fur and missing eye and tendency to drool. And Sokka can’t think of a cause he feels more strongly about than making Zuko happy. 

He sighs, and downs the rest of his coffee. 

“Give me ten minutes to shower and get dressed, and then I’ll go to the store.” 

“Huh?” 

“Give me ten minutes,” Sokka repeats. “And then I’ll pop to the offie to get some more biscuits.” 

Zuko looks at Sokka with an expression that Sokka doesn’t quite know how to interpret. It looks a lot like wonder, but that can’t be it, can it? 

“What?” Sokka asks, slightly uncomfortable under Zuko’s gaze. Zuko shakes his head. 

“Nothing, I just – thank you. I love you. I love that you get me.” 

And, well, Sokka can’t _not_ kiss him after that, can he? 

_6\. He remembered swans can be gay._

When Sokka told Katara that he was going for a picnic date in the park with Zuko, he’s certain that Katara assumed that it would be a super romantic affair, with candles and champagne and grapes. Sokka’s not about to correct her assumptions, even if it’s very far from the truth. 

The truth, in this case, is a couple of Tesco meal deals and a six-pack of Strongbow Dark Fruits. 

Listen, they’re on a budget, alright? They’re making the best of what they have. 

(And besides, the food may not be Michelin star, and the booze may lack class, but Zuko is lying with his head in Sokka’s lap and Sokka gets to periodically feed him sweet chilli Sensations, so Sokka reckons that this is better than anything else they could do). 

The two of them are engaged in a heated discussion about the original Star Wars trilogy versus the prequels, when they’re suddenly interrupted by a loud honk. 

They both twist their necks towards the source of the aggressive honking. The source of the sound is an angry looking goose emerging from the pond with its wings outstretched, chasing after a small child who is running away and screaming. 

“Oh my God,” Sokka says, and pushes Zuko unceremoniously off of his lap so he can find his phone. “I need to film this, Suki’s gonna love it.” 

Zuko, to his credit, isn’t too miffed about his being shoved away from the comfort of Sokka’s lap. Instead, he’s completely enthralled by the incredible scene unravelling in front of them. An old woman has gotten involved, batting at the swan with her walking stick. 

The swan seems to be enjoying the new competition. 

Zuko is so glad Sokka is filming this. 

“Make sure you get that in shot,” Zuko says, gesturing towards a group of grown adults huddling on top of the climbing frame. “Are they not aware that geese can fly?” 

Sokka makes sure he gets that in shot. 

“Oh my _God.”_ Sokka can’t believe it. A new contender has entered play, and he aims the camera back towards the lake as a second angry goose comes to shore and likewise starts honking at screaming children and parents. “I wonder if they’re a couple? I wonder if they’re a _gay_ couple?” 

Zuko stares at him in disbelief. 

“What?” Sokka says, drawing his attention away from the geese. 

“I just...” Zuko falters. “I can’t believe you remembered, that’s all.” 

His eyes are a little watery. 

“Oh, _babe,”_ Sokka says. He puts down his phone to cup Zuko’s face in his hands. “Of course I remembered! It’s my back-up plan!” 

“Huh?”   


“Yeah! If this engineering lark doesn’t work out for me, and if you’re kicked out of uni after you finally lose it and kill that racist guy in your Shakespeare module, we’re becoming angry gay geese. I think I’d really suit the feathers, don’t you?” 

Zuko sniffs. 

“I’d love to be an angry gay goose with you,” he says, and Sokka grins. “Now help me pick up all our shit, because I think the geese have spotted our leftovers and they’re headed this way.” 

_7\. I tried holding his hand when he wasn’t expecting it._

Sokka trails behind Zuko, pushing the shopping trolley dutifully as Zuko frowns at his colour-coded shopping list. 

“...almond milk, check, Pringles, check... we need silken tofu...” Zuko says, more to himself than to Sokka, and he heads towards the right aisle. Sokka swipes a bag of chocolate buttons that are on offer and chucks them into the trolley before catching up with Zuko. 

He finds his boyfriend stood in the Asian food aisle, holding a box in each hand and seemingly deliberating between two brands. Zuko doesn’t notice Sokka come up, so Sokka nudges him slightly with the trolley to get his attention. 

“What’s up?” 

“I don’t - what one should I get?” Zuko looks a bit lost, and his forehead is furrowed, which means he’s moving from the realm of ‘adorably fussy’ to ‘genuinely stressed out’, which just won’t do. 

“Why don’t you just get the one we usually get?” 

Zuko throws a withering look in Sokka’s direction. 

“What if they don’t _like_ that type, Sokka? What if they like this other type?” Zuko gestures somewhat manically with the boxed tofu in his hands. “Maybe we should just order takeout – or just cancel altogether.”   
  
Sokka walks around the trolley and takes both boxes out of Zuko’s hands. 

“Zuko. Honey. Light of my life. Your family will not give a shit about the brand of tofu you use. They’re coming over because they want to spend time with you, not because they’re expecting a Michelin star meal. But-” 

He dumps both boxes of tofu into the trolley. 

“We’re gonna get both, because otherwise you’ll spend the entire drive back home stressing about whether you got the right kind or not.” 

Sometimes things really don’t have to be that complicated. 

Zuko exhales. 

“Okay. Okay, okay, okay.” He checks his list. “C’mon, we need cereal.” 

He heads off, and Sokka follows. 

Sometimes Sokka thinks that Zuko _enjoys_ being stressed out. It’s the only logical reason as to why his incredibly fastidious boyfriend decided to invite Iroh and Azula over for dinner tonight, completely out-of-the-blue and unplanned. He thinks that maybe Zuko isn’t comfortable unless he’s at least a little bit uncomfortable. 

Sokka laughs to himself and picks up the pace with his trolley. 

He catches up with Zuko, but instead of lingering a few paces behind him, he shuffles next to him. He slides a hand into Zuko’s, picking it up and placing on the trolley handle under his own. Zuko watches Sokka man-handle his hand and then promptly bursts into tears. 

“Woah, it’s okay, I’ve got you!” Sokka wraps his arms around Zuko, who buries his face into Sokka’s faded Taylor Swift t-shirt. “What’s up?” 

Zuko takes a moment to sniffle into Taylor’s face. 

“I wasn’t expecting it, that’s all,” he says eventually, but his face is still smushed into Sokka’s chest so it sounds more like ‘I wzen specking ib, thaz awe’. 

“What weren’t you expecting, baby?” Sokka asks patiently, combing a hand through Zuko’s hair and glaring over his head at a woman who’s been staring at them for just a moment too long for his liking. 

Honestly, it’s as if these people have never seen a gay emo have a minor breakdown in the arms of his sexy jock boyfriend in the Tesco biscuit aisle before. The nerve. 

Zuko is suspiciously quiet, so Sokka repeats the question. After a moment, Zuko huffs out a frustrated sigh. 

“I wasn’t expecting you to hold my hand. It took me by surprise, I don’t know -” he trails off, and Sokka frowns. 

“Do you... not want me to hold your hand?” 

“No! I mean yes, I mean – ah! I _do_ wanna hold your hand, I do -” Sokka is quite relieved to hear this, as holding Zuko’s hand is one of his favourite things to do, “But I – I don’t know. I wasn’t expecting it. I wasn’t expecting you to – I don’t know. I guess I’m just... thankful. Because you’re here, and you want to hold my hand, even when I’m being annoying about tofu brands, and I’m glad.” 

Oh man. Sokka has never been more in love. 

“You could never be annoying,” he says. “It’s scientifically impossible.” 

Zuko laughs, albeit a bit wetly, and Sokka counts that as a point in his favour. 

“I think my sister might disagree.” 

Sokka scoffs. 

“Your sister – and I say this with love, okay, so don’t be mad - is insane. You should take everything she says with a whole ocean’s worth of salt.” 

Sokka likes Azula – they had a rocky start, but once he discovered that she’s a secret Star Wars nerd (and she swore him to secrecy), they started getting along a lot better. He likes how much she cares about Mai and Ty Lee, he likes how protective she is of her big brother, he likes that when he slips up and says something sexist, she calls him out on it like Katara does. 

He likes Azula well enough. But he is definitely still slightly terrified of her. 

Sokka thinks of Katara – her relentless determination, her tendency to always be on the attack, the way she is always ready to prove herself to anyone and everyone – and thinks that maybe being terrifying is a sister thing. Maybe you have to be a scary motherfucker before they let you be a sister. 

He shakes himself out of his thoughts to see Zuko scrubbing at his tear-stained cheeks. His eyes are puffy but not as watery anymore, and his breathing isn’t as shaky. Sokka takes this in and lets himself relax. 

“Right,” Zuko declares, centring himself and getting back to business. “I think – we have everything we need. Let’s just pay and get home. Then I can get started on cooking.” 

Sokka grins. He’ll never stop being amused at Zuko’s ability to go from 0 to 100, to emotional wreck to king of organisation within mere seconds. 

“Lead the way, maestro,” Sokka plants a sloppy kiss on Zuko’s forehead before gesturing grandly towards the tills. 

_8.I cooked him dinner after a long day._

Zuko has had, to put it simply, _A Day._

It hadn’t been terrible, and it hadn’t been particularly bad, but it had been _long._ It started with him waking in an empty flat – Sokka had left early to catch the bus for his 9am class, leaving Zuko to wake up in a bed that was just slightly too cold without Sokka’s octopus limbs sprawling over it. He then plodded into the kitchen to make breakfast, only to tiredly pour orange juice instead of oat milk into his Shreddies. 

Whilst dejectedly scooping the orangey-cereal mush into the bin, he had caught a glimpse of the time and swore loudly – despite Sokka’s absence, Zuko had still managed to sleep in a considerable amount of time, which left him with just 40 minutes to get ready, catch the bus, and walk to the café where he was meeting with the other students he was supposed to be doing this _stupid_ fucking project with. Shit. 

He forwent his usual morning shower – which made him feel gross, which meant he was going to feel gross _all day –_ and instead went straight to the bedroom to throw on some jeans and the cleanest smelling hoodie he could find in the laundry pile. He yanked his converse on and grabbed his keys, rushed out the door, and of _fucking_ course the lift was out of order. He allowed himself a melodramatic groan before turning on his heel and legging it down the five flights of stairs, only to freeze when he realised something major. 

He patted down all his pockets, just to make sure, and yep. He forgot his wallet. 

Zuko climbed back up the _fucking_ stairs, swearing under his breath with every other step. He stormed back into the flat and glared at his wallet as he grabbed it as if it’s done him some great personal wrong, before racing back out and going back down the stairs. 

By the time he made it outside, he was out of breath and pissed off. He had half a mind to turn back and go up those thrice-damned stairs _again_ and just get back into bed. 

But no. He had places to be, dammit. 

He speed-walked down the street towards the bus stop, and as he turned the corner, he saw the impossible – the bus was there. 

The bus was _on time._

What the fuck. 

Not once, in the several years Zuko has lived here, has the bus ever been on time. And now, on the one day he would have actually liked it to be a little bit late, it was _there._

And – oh, shit. It was leaving. 

His speed-walking turned into a brisk-yet-desperate jog, but the bus didn’t slow down. It sped away, it’s loud whirring taunting Zuko as he was left behind; cold, tired, and bus-less. 

(If, when watching the bus leave without him, Zuko practiced a few of the breathing exercises his therapist had taught him, that was nobody else’s business but his). 

_Bus 82 comes every 20 minutes._

Fuck. 

_Fuck._

Zuko stared at the bus-stop sign as if it would change under his despondent gaze. He sighed, before giving up and beginning the long trek up the hill into the town centre. 

Eventually, he arrived at the café a solid 20 minutes late. He apologised awkwardly to his groupmates as he pulled up a chair and squeezed in between them, wincing under their displeased glares. 

Whatever. 

He had no intention of being friends with any of these people – Eric was a misogynistic asshole, Samantha had said that all Asian people look the same in their very first lecture and Zuko had never forgotten nor had he forgiven, and Henry – well, Henry was just a fucking idiot. Zuko was more than a little bitter that their professor had put him in a group with these jerks. Still, he wanted a decent grade on this project so it was in his best interest to at least remain civil until this whole ordeal was over. 

The other students caught Zuko up to speed with what they had already discussed – at least, Eric and Samantha did. Henry was too busy ordering a ‘white Americano without milk’, like an _idiot._

He suffered through the rest of the meeting (thankfully without knocking anyone’s teeth out), and all but ran out of the café when they were done. It was now that his stomach started to protest – after the whole orange-cereal debacle, Zuko had gone without breakfast in the end, and was now starving. Cursing himself for not getting something in the cute and affordable café, he walked down the street and dipped into Costa instead. More expensive, sure, but he hoped that they would have some of their _amazing_ vegan cheese toasties in stock. 

Ha. 

Of course they didn’t. 

All that was left was tomato and basil soup. _Soup._ Zuko was about to turn and leave, planning on going elsewhere to get something to eat, but then his stomach rumbled again so he threw the soup on the counter and ordered an iced latte for good measure. 

“Oh, sorry sir, we’re actually all out of almond milk.” The smiley barista said cheerfully. 

Zuko sighed. 

“We have oat, or soya?” The barista continued, still smiling. Zuko hated her on principal. 

“Oat’s fine,” he said. 

(It wasn’t fine). 

He ate his soup – _fucking soup, who eats soup? -_ quickly, and took his iced coffee outside to drink on the way to the bus stop. 

He must’ve done something right, because luckily, he actually managed to get on a bus this time _and_ there was a seat free. Success. 

He pulled out his phone, pulling up Spotify with one hand whilst digging in his pocket for headphones with the other, before realising that he didn’t. Fucking. Have them. _Fuck._

Accepting the fact that he would have to ride for 30 minutes in silence, he rested his forehead against the cool window and watched the terraced houses outside all blend together. 

* 

The lift was still broken when he finally got back to the block of flats, so Zuko trudged back up the endless flights of stairs, cursing the world and all its inhabitants. At this point, he was completely over this stupid day and was ready to inhale some toast before collapsing into bed. He unlocked the door and called out a greeting to Sokka as he toed off his trainers – his left shoe was halfway off his foot when something made him freeze. 

Something that smelt _good._

He followed the scent into the kitchen, where Sokka was singing along to the radio and standing over the hob. On hearing Zuko enter the room, Sokka turned around with a grin on his face and waved the wooden spoon he was holding in greeting. He was wearing Zuko’s bright pink _Hello Kitty_ apron. 

“Hey, Hotman! You’re back just in time – dinner's almost ready,” Sokka gestured towards the various pans in front of him. “It’s just ramen, but with that shichimi-coated tofu stuff that you like in yours and beef in mine!” 

And Zuko - 

Well. 

Zuko was just _so_ hungry, and _so_ tired, and he was expecting to have nothing more than a bit of toast tonight, but instead he gets his lovely boyfriend cooking him food that smells incredible, and Sokka had turned back to dish up the food and was adding more hot sauce to Zuko’s plate, and it was all just a bit too much. 

Zuko burst into tears. 

“Zuko - shit, are you alright? Did something happen today? Are you hurt?” Sokka instantly abandoned the food to grab onto Zuko’s shoulders and assess his body, checking for any potential injuries. Zuko couldn’t help but smile a bit through his sniffles at Sokka’s concern. Instead of answering right away, he wrapped his arms around Sokka’s waist and buried his face into his boyfriend’s chest. He 100% got a bit of snot over Sokka, but Zuko figured that Sokka signed up for that sort of thing back when they started dating. 

He felt the tension he had been holding all day ease out of his body as Sokka wrapped his own strong arms around Zuko, squeezing just tight enough to feel safe but not constricting. The rhythmic rise and fall of Sokka’s chest against Zuko’s own was comforting, and he focused on that as his tears dried and his own breathing became steadier. 

“I’ve just...” he began, before taking a shuddering breath. “I’ve had... a _really_... long day.” 

Sokka’s hands rubbed circles on Zuko’s back. 

“So... is that a no to ramen?” He asked hesitantly, and Zuko was quick to respond. 

“No! I mean, yes, I mean, ramen sounds great. It smells great. I want all the ramen.” He pulled away from Sokka’s embrace – albeit reluctantly – and scrubbed at his eyes. “It sounds really, really great.” 

Sokka looked at Zuko with an amused expression on his face. 

“Okay,” he said cautiously. “Sit down then, and we can eat this _really great_ ramen and you can tell me all about your terribly long day.” 

Zuko sat down with a smile. 

\--------------------- 

Sokka was flicking through his notebook, searching for the notes he had taken during yesterday’s lecture so he could send them to Teo who had missed class, when he remembered the list at the back. He chuckled to himself as he read through the list and remembered each instance, before something made him frown down at the notebook in his hands. 

Through the page, he could see writing on the other side of the paper – which he definitely didn’t write on. He turned the page hesitantly, but smiled when he saw Zuko’s familiar loopy handwriting. 

There, written in red glittery ink, was a new list: 

_Reasons Why MY Boyfriend is Crying:_

  1. _He watched a video about a dog._



Okay. In Sokka’s defence, it was a video by The Dodo. It was about a dog who didn’t have any hind-legs, so somebody built him a wheelchair so he could still play in the park with all his doggy friends, and just the thought of it was _not_ making Sokka misty-eyed, okay, it _wasn’t._

It _wasn’t._

(But, if it was, Sokka didn’t think that would be too bad – when he has a boyfriend who’s always ready to give him cuddles when he needs them with minimal teasing, sniffling a little bit over cute animal videos is a hardship that Sokka thinks he can live with). 

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading !! leave a comment if u like and hmu on tumblr @/heterozuko :]


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